


Spare

by inkandchocolate



Category: Jossverse RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandchocolate/pseuds/inkandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard work, watching over Dave. But Chris does what needs to be done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spare

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a companion piece to TheBratQueen's "Split". See link at end.

It's hard, watching over Dave. The man is a walking community care project, but no one seems to mind that he's high maintenance. What brings them together, what makes it possible for Chris to get alone with Vincent, and Vincent to get along with James, and now for them to all get along with Alexis, is simple enough.

He's just too nice a guy to *not* want to protect him. For all his larger-than-life persona, he inspires the need to form a line, a wall between harsh reality and the world that they want to be a part of. A world where Dave has not just barely recovered from the whole messy fallout over Nicky, but has moved on. A world where there is no reason to form that wall.

But times like this, watching Alexis go off to find Dave, it's hard for Chris. Once upon a time that would have been his place, going to make sure everything was ok. Going to make sure Dave wasn't falling apart. Being the one to pulll him back together. Not his place anymore, but it could be again.

Probably will be. If he doesn't do something stupid while he waits.

Still, there's only so much he can take, and he doesn't want to be there when Dave comes back with an arm slung over Alexis's shoulder. Doesn't want to measure up the way they stand and lean together to try and gauge where on the scale of experience he can place them so he'll know for sure what happened.

He pushes the pencil aside and takes the last mouthful of his beer in a gulp. Sets the bottle down in front of Vincent and squeezes his neck gently. Vincent looks up at him, eyebrows drawn together in an expression of delicate confusion that makes Chris think about asking if he wants to take off now, go back to his place.

He doesn't though. He's not in the mood to be particularly good company now, the beer buzz gone over from giddy to something less pleasant. His smile is tight as he tells Vincent he's got to get going.

"Now? We've got two more games to go." Vincent reaches for the score pad and waves it at Chris. "Don't you wanna... you know..." He grins, one side of his mouth curling up with a quirk and again the thought of taking those long limbs to his sheets to see how delicate he really is flits in and out of Chris' head.

"I gotta get out," Chris says again, squeezing Vincent's shoulder this time. "You gonna be okay?"

Vincent raises one eyebrow and does the half-grin again. "What am I, twelve? Get out of here, you asshole." He picks up his beer as he slumps in his chair and puts his feet up where Chris was sitting.

"Later on." Chris kicks Vincent's feet in the absurdly colorful shoes, knocking one off the chair before he makes his way up towards the desk to retrieve his boots and make his escape.

-=-=-=

He's got one hand on the metal bar and is actually pushing the door open when he hears the laugh coming from the crowd of men at the first lane. There's a clump of them leaning over the table, obscuring Chris' view of who's sitting there and making with the jokes.

Not that he needs to see, of course. Who else would be making that much noise, trying to draw that much attention? He steps back inside, checks to be sure neither Vincent or Jay -- or Dave, fuck that -- is looking in his direction before he turns around and walking back inside. Pauses on the top step just a minute, although the idea has pretty much taken firm root now.

He waits for the clump to disperse enough for him to be able to reach out and tap Kelly's shoulder, and when Kelly turns in the chair, Chris' belly tightens with irritation. He nods his head towards the next lane where the seats are empty and there's none of Kelly's posse du jour are going to be hanging on every word. Kelly unfolds himself from the seat and nods back, grabbing his beer and leaning against the booth as Chris turns to face him.

"You're a fuck, you know that?"

There's a slow up and down and up again appraisal followed by that one sided smirk that has more than a little touch of cruelty in it. The fucked up part of it is that Chris knows this is the good brother. Nicky only looks like he's a nice guy. Kelly looks like a slick hustler.

Which he is. That doesn't mean he's not still the good brother.

Smirk and all, Kelly stares back at Chris and then shrugs. "You got balls, calling me on being unsubtle when Big D is like, what? Twenty feet away?"

Chris doesn't look to see if Kelly's bluffing. If Dave is back, then he's with Alexis and he doesn't want to see that. If he's not back, then Kelly will cackle at him being so easy to dupe and Chris might just have to hit him. The possibility of hitting Kelly seems to grow exponentially each time Chris thinks about how he nearly panicked when Kelly walked in the door.

"You know I don't ever remember you talkin' about being some big fan of bowling. So I gotta wonder how come this new hobby of your crops up tonight." He glances at the men who are blatantly not-bowling and waiting for Kelly to come back. The laughter from earlier is gone without Kelly there to keep everyone going, and Chris feels like he's being watched by fucking vultures. His shoulder twitches and he rolls it slowly, hand in the pocket of his leather as he waits for Kelly's excuse.

"I don't know whether to be flattered that you keep such a detailed list of my habits or to just laugh at your stupid ass," Kelly finally says and pushes his bottle of beer against Chris' shoulder. It's sweating and it leaves a wet smudge on the black leather. "Just because *your* world revolves around who's fucking Dave doesn't mean the rest of us give a damn."

Chris grits his teeth and the muscle in his neck throbs briefly before he shakes his head. "You wanna play games for Nicky, that's fine. You go right on home and tell him whatever the hell it is you were supposed to go sniffing around for." He steps away and Kelly's chuckle stops him.

"What if I wasn't here looking for Big D?" he murmurs. His tongue is sticking out just enough for Chris to see the pink tip against his bottom lip.

"Like I said, you're a fuck," Chris tells him, but he's not leaving. Yet.

Finally Kelly shrugs, takes a sip and raises his beer to Chris as he swallows. "I'll be sure and tell Nicky you were really interested in what he's up to." His smirk is firmly in place as he wanders over to the first lane again and is welcomed back into the herd with loud and enthusiastic shoulder slapping.

Chris blinks slowly and wonders what the hell he's doing, trying to get under Kelly's skin. It's because of Alexis, that's what it is, and as he walks away and manages to get out into the parking lot this time, he admits that he's looking for something else to be pissed off about. Wants an excuse for the tightness in his chest and the throb behind his eyes that comes from seeing Alexis so clearly take his place, wants to find something to be mad about that he can't tie back to Dave. But when he pulls out of the parking lot, his chest is still too tight and he goes over the look on Alexis's face again and again. Sees Alexis getting up, sees him walking off, sees himself sitting there to the side with nothing else to do but tally up the score.

-end

**Author's Note:**

> TheBratQueen's fic on her LJ: [Split](http://www.livejournal.com/users/thebratqueen/672659.html#cutid1)


End file.
